Work angst, redux.

My job made me cry again today. I'm so tired of scrambling to jump through hoops on shifting timelines and having useless time-consuming deliverables added in on no notice. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm trying to do my job despite my clients, instead of for them.

The best part about this, of course, is that my dream job has opened up. The one that I targeted my grad school studies toward, the one that hasn't been open to my knowledge since I got my Master's, the one I am just-qualified-enough to do well, but which would stretch and improve me in a million important ways, the one that is in the specialty area I want to work in. It's only ten minutes away, in a work environment I have thoroughly checked out and would love to be part of. And I'm too pregnant to apply.

Also, my freelance job emailed me to tell me there's an important meeting for the new project on Monday. Thanks for the, um, five days of notice? I mean, I'll be on a plane to Germany, but it was nice that you thought of me. And, oh, by the way, that's great that you got the contract months ago. I really appreciate your letting me know (except for how you totally didn't until I got this email about the meeting), since I'm written in as the evaluator. Thanks. And what's that? Would I like to be part of a third grant with you? Gosh, I'd love to, but I have to wash my hair.

Sometimes I feel bad about my disillusioned, cynical attitude toward my work. And then days like today happen, and I remember that it's really not just me. I hope I can move on after this to something that reminds me of why I love this field, why it's important and dynamic and interesting. Because it is. I want so badly to love my work, but I feel like I keep getting the rug yanked out from under me.